THE DIFFERENCE YOU MAKE
by slytherix
Summary: [Caulscott] Every living sense told her to hate him. And she did; to the point where she wanted him dead. But did she really enjoy watching him getting beaten up, looking vulnerable, his Prescott pride suddenly being brutally taken away from him?
1. The Difference

''You fucking idiot!'' His hand clenches around her throat, making it unable for the girl to breathe. She feels weak all of the sudden, her body pressed to the mask of a red SUV, trapping her in a tight spot.

''Let go off me!'' She attempts to scream with any strength left in her lungs, but it barely even comes out as a scared and hushed whisper. His second hand now joins the other, and she automatically raises her own arm to stop him.

''Nobody fucking messes with me, _bitch_. Remember that, will you?'' His tone becomes even sharper and on the verge of patience, giving off the impression that he's going to completely lose his temper with this _unbelievable snitch_ any possible second now.

The tears forming in her eyes are about to fall, knowing she's not able to protect herself. Her gaze meets Warren on the ground, his nose smashed and bleeding; and that's when she brings her nails into action, ripping the skin off the boy's cheek.

Her friend quickly gets up and pushes the Prescott away with such force that his opponent falls onto the hard ground, and the relieved girl coughs painfully, massaging her slightly bruising neck.

Then the truck comes and she gets in, Nathan kicking the door close for her.  
 _The look on his face is unforgettable._

* * *

''What did he want from you?'' The blue-haired girl asks, and the brunette turns to face her.

''He's just a psycho who needs to be put in a fucking prison,'' she answers straight away without thinking, automatically placing her icy hand onto the side of her neck. ''I mean . . . who knows what would've happened if you weren't there to save me? God, Chloe, you're my hero . . . ''

''My pleasure,'' she smirks and the brunette can't help but smile too, still too shaken to actually laugh.

* * *

 _Nathan-fucking-Prescott drugged my friend.  
_ Even when she's thinking about him, her insides turn with disgust.

She knows she has to do something about it, but she's too scared to even get close enough.  
 _I mean_ , he tried to choke her, _right_?

He beat Warren up and –

''Ouch,'' she hears, the sound of his voice making her come back to the reality.  
''Sorry,'' she apologises, placing a bag of ice on his cheek. ''I'm _so_ sorry about today.''

His eyebrow rises, looking up at her. ''Max, what you're talking 'bout? You have nothing to be sorry for,'' he answers, and her chest tightens when she looks back. His black eye looks painful and she knows it will be only worse by tomorrow.

''You're a real everyday hero,'' A small chuckle comes out of her shaking mouth as she says it.  
''I know, right? Maybe I'd win this whole contest if I could use a camera.''

He bits his lip when she slightly presses the ice-pack against the skin; her hand resting now on the painful spot, heart shattering into pieces.

He looks at her; surprised eyes; for a second they both know it was a big step in their relationship. Now, she knows he'll stand up to whoever she has trouble with, and she isn't exactly sure if it is a good or a bad thing.

Her lips soon meet the darkish skin, making him moan with pain and confusion.  
Blue-eyed girl isn't sure why she did that. Her mum always kissed her bruises with a smile, saying it'll heal quicker that way; and she believed her, _how could she not?_

''M-Max?'' He gasps, but she doesn't respond. She takes his face with both of her hands and kisses him gently, a sudden act involuntary forcing him to move back, not enough to stop the kiss, but to give her a signal that she took him by surprise.

When their lips separate, the girl lazily opens her eyes to meet his, looking curiously at her. Their noses are nearly touching, her fingertips resting on his hot lips, both of them breathing in the same air.

And she does it again, this time passionately; sitting herself down on his lap as he places his hands on her back, unsure what to do. He surely didn't even had his first kiss yet, and this– _this_ is so far away from a kiss. This is a _whole_ new level of intimacy.

''What . . . are you . . doing . . . '' He manages to gasp between their kisses, his body becoming hot and excited from the touch of her skin; something he wanted for a long, long time now.

He likes her, but he's unsure whenever she likes him too, or is she just feeling guilty of what happened on the parking lot earlier. Or did she finally open her eyes and saw how much he fancied her? _Could that be it?_

She finally stops, her fingers caressing his skin, a blush all over her face, avoiding direct eye contact.

''I wanted to say thank you,'' A quiet sentence escapes her mouth, and he's following her lips, thinking about kissing them again and again.

''Uhhh, a simple 'thank you' would be satisfactory– . . . ''

''I _do_ like you,'' she cuts him off, embarrassed. There's a silence now filling the room, and none of them know what to say.

Warren's too shocked to answer, although he feels like shouting 'I love you' to her face, while she's feeling too flustered to even move.

''I– I like you too, Max,'' he finally answers and her chest feels light again, a smile forming on her blushed face.

 _Here. That wasn't hard now, was it?_

* * *

 _That fucking bastard._

She looks at her ruined wall and messy room; an anger so strong she wants to scream.

The phone threats were one thing and that was the other. It took it to the whole new level.

She hates him so much it's unbelievable.

 _You fricking asshole, I'll get you back._

* * *

''Open the door, you ass!'' She shouts, banging on the door, trying to open it, but no good luck, it's locked. She doesn't care that someone might see her. She's too angry to even be scared right now.

A sound of something falling down comes from the inside, _could of been a cupboard or something._

''I know you're in there!'' She adds, crossing her arms, head buzzing like it's going to explode.

''Fuck off!'' A rude answer comes from the other side, making her knock again, this time harder.

''No, open up!'' She yells back, nervously looking around.

''Max, _not now_.''

''Oh yeah, _right_ now,'' she demands, tapping the door with her open palm, irritated.

A minute passes by and nothing happens, so she tries the lock again, finding it open. She looks around but it's too dark to make out anything. Her eyes focus on Nathan's posture sitting at the couch, both hands on his ears, like he's trying to block out whatever sound he's hearing.

It's dead silent and cold.

''What the fuck do you want?'' He asks harshly, not looking up. She wants to shout at him, demand answers, tell him to go to hell; but seeing him in this condition makes her lose her courage.

''Stay away from Kate,'' the girl says bravely, feeling her hand slightly shaking. _Why did she come here in the first place?_ It's not like he's going to listen to her.

''What?'' He looks up, his eyes sparkling in the dark, but she's unable to make out his expression, so she eyes the walls for a light switch.

''Turn on the lights.'' For a second, she thinks of adding a polite 'please', but she ends up not doing so. It's not like it's going to make any difference.

''Oh man, y–you're telling me w–what to do?'' He says stuttering, clumsily getting on his feet and she steps back, afraid. He turns on the projector, a white light making her iris shrink. Then, he turns his body to face her; she's able to see sweat forming on his forehead.

She doesn't like where this is going, but she's not going to back out now. Not like she can, anyway.

''Stay away from Kate and never even go near her, do you understand?'' She asks coldly, knowing how ridiculously she must sound to him.  
The door are slightly opened, she could run away before he got her; she's fast enough and he doesn't look like he's even able to stand on his own feet right now.

She wants to laugh in his face at his poor condition. He always says how strong and prideful he is, and right now, he is neither.

''Are you threatening me?'' He asks amused, helping himself stand straight with the side of the desk and she dares to say more.

''I have so much shit on you, Prescott. And I will get even more. So you better watch your ass from now on,'' she continues and observes as his eyebrow twitches, mouth slightly opening, about to say something. His expression is confused and somehow scared. ''I know that you drugged Chloe. And Kate. Then you took her somewhere. And I will find out where and why.''

She doesn't get to say anything else, because he tries to catch her, but falls onto the floor and she opens the door for herself to leave.

''You are truly pathetic, Mr. Prescott,'' she exclaims briefly as she looks down at him with hatred and disgust, his expression mad and insane, giving away the mental state he's currently at.

She leaves, closing the door behind her, not caring what will happen to him.

The roles have changed, and now Max is the one in control of them both.

* * *

He is sitting at her desk with Victoria.  
How _dare_ he, after she blackmailed him?

As she comes closer, they both look at her.

''I wouldn't think I'd see you again after our little chat earlier,'' she says casually, mysterious look written on her face and the blonde raises an asking eyebrow at her friend. He swallows, his jaw clenching.

''Nathan, _you_ talk to _her_?'' She asks, half-amused, half-offended as he looks away.

''I think you're wrong in that twee head of yours, thinking I'd ever even look at you," he snarls with his usual angry and confident tone after collecting himself – a sign that he won't let the girl have a control over him. _Never_.

She rolls her eyes, putting a hand on her hip. She's not scared, she's in the classroom among with the other students. If he tries anything, they will separate them and he'll only get into trouble.  
She could always rewind as well.

'' _Riiight_ ," the brunette looks at her seat. ''Can I sit at _my_ desk now?'' She asks politely, knowing it will tick Victoria off.

''Alright, _Maxine,"_ she says, getting up. ''And I want that photo back, whore. Or I get nasty.''

As Nathan follows the blonde, he stops to look at the brunette.

''You better watch your mouth, Caulfield. Snitches get stitches, Max. Remember that.'' And he walks off, leaving her piercing his back.

 _Such a prick._

* * *

As she's walking through the dorm door, someone aggressively yanks her by her shoulder and pins her to the wall. She doesn't have to guess who it is.

''I'll scream," she warns without thinking, feeling her heart speeding up but he just scowls; knowing _she won't do shit._

''I fucking warned you, didn't I?'' He asks without expecting an answer, his arm blocking one way to escape, and the other clenching around her, making it unable for her to move. ''And what you do? You fucking bitch-snitch on me to that fucked up Principal and get me suspended," he nearly spits everything out, and she eyes the hall, but no one's out to help her.

For once, when she needs someone to be there to help her, there is _no one_.

''Let me go, asshole," she says shakily, and he moves closer, their noses pressed against each other, breathing in the same air and she finds it uncomfortable and disgusting to even be that close to a person she hates the most.

'' _Do not f_ ucking even talk back to me.''

''Let me go, Nathan," she repeats, attempting to free herself, but his grip is too tight around her neck.

''Oh no, no no, _Caulfield,_ you're not going to get away that easily." His smirk looks mad and insane. She opens her mouth, ready to shout, but he's quicker and grabs her cheeks, pressing them so hard she can feel his fingers on her cheekbones.

She pushes him with her free hand, but he won't even budge.

''It hurts, _please_ , leave me alone," the girl manages a weak whisper, closing her eyes shut, ashamed of begging him to stop; but today's events made her already vulnerable. She still can't get rid of the image of Kate's body lying motionless on the pavement.

''Good," he presses harder and she struggles with keeping the oxygen in her lungs. ''It fucking should.''

He finally lets go, an unbelievable pain burning her skin, making her almost sure she'll have a bruise; but she doesn't care, she drops slowly onto the floor, hiding her face in her knees and hands, beginning to sob.

Soon enough, she hears something being dropped onto the floor, a sound of glass, she is certain.  
As she peeks through her fingers, it's her polaroid camera, completely destroyed.

''And who's fucking pathetic _now_ , whore?'' He asks with horrible and disgusting amusement in his voice, laughing at her with great satisfaction.

''I hate you, _I hate you_. . . Rot in hell, you fucking sicko," she looks up at him with fury, her words filled with venom, pointing at him like daggers and he shakes his head slightly, walking away.

She hates him. _She so fucking hates him._

 _Do not rewind. Let it happen. Let me hate him even more._

* * *

She meets him in the diner. Just at his sight, she wants to smash his head against the table, but she doesn't, although it's a tempting thought.

''Holy shit, you _again_ ," he greets her coldly, smiling at the horrible bruise formed on her face. She tried covering it with make-up, however it's still slightly visible. She feels nauseous, _how much exactly sick in the head that boy is?_

''Beware, Mr. Prescott," the brunette answers calmly. ''We're going to find the _Dark Room_ soon.''

Every slight colour has been drained from his face.

He isn't moving. Not even breathing.

She didn't know what she was saying. She thought that Nathan had some issue with a place called 'the dark room' as he wrote it over and over on his drawing that she and Chloe found at the Principal's office, so it must of been a thing, _right_?  
His reaction assures her that it's somehow connected and this place _an actually exists_.

Maybe it wasn't clever to tell him that, but his face is priceless; she'd love to take a picture of him right now, but he destroyed her precious gift from Chloe. She feels broken, like a camera without a lens or an 'action' button. She feels limited.

Without any emotion on her face, she walks away; he gets up to stop her, but doesn't. His breathing is becoming clearly uncontrolled. His body is shaking and she thinks he collapses, but she's not sure; she's already out, hoping he'll die just like Kate did last night; because of him.

* * *

 _Welcome, alternative timeline._

As Max is about to run off, she is stopped by no one else other than Nathan, however she's too excited and shocked to even look at him.  
She needs to run, she needs to see Chloe _right now_.

''Maxi, are you even listening?'' He snaps his fingers in front of her eyes and she rises an eyebrow. _Since when are they on friendly terms? Since when there is no anger in his voice? Since when his eyes are soft and relaxed?_

''What?'' She asks, mixed expression written on her face.

''Oh, sorry. Forgot not to call you that," he apologises quickly and stifles a laugh.

She thought she was crazy. Because there's no way Nathan would otherwise be so nice towards her. ''Who _are you_ and what have you done to Nathan?''

''Yeah, apologising's my new thing, remember? Or were you too high to even notice?'' He asks, but his words are not making any sense to her. She has no memory or whatsoever of this lifetime.

''Too high?'' She repeats, her mind full of questions. ''I am _never_ high.''

He laughs. ''Oh yeah, _of course_ ," he says sarcastically and grabs her waist, pulling her close to him.

''What are you _doing_?'' Her body tenses at his touch, she's afraid that he will hit her any time now.

''Oh, guys are pretty chill about us, we've just spoken about it."

''Us?'' She repeats, feeling her legs falling under the weight of her body. _What is he talking about?_

''Don't tease me," he says quietly into her ear, sending a shiver down her body. She immediately touches her cheek, but it doesn't hurt, although the fresh memory of him hurting her still flashes in front of her eyes. There is no pain under the pressure of her fingertips physically, however mentally the scar remains still fresh.

She feels disgusting in his arms, dirty, it's _repelling_ her.

She looks at him, but his eyes are filled with love, not hatred. _How? How is that possible?_

She doesn't want to play along. It _disgusts_ her. His hands on her body disgust her. His look disgusts her. Everything about him disgust her, no matter what timeline it is and how much he has changed; he'll always be the same, old Nathan Prescott.

''I need to go. Talk to you tonight?'' She frees herself, wanting to run away, never turning back.  
''Of course," he kisses her gently on her cheek. It takes a lot of strength for her not to cringe at the action.

She can't believe this Max dates him. _How could she?  
_ _I mean_ ; Max is considering it and now when's she's thinking about it, if Nathan never shot Chloe or drugged Kate, he could be an OK guy with the correct mental treatments.  
No, he couldn't. _Max, don't. Just don't, it's gross._

* * *

His face scares him. It looks nothing like the one in the alternate timeline. _Nothing like it._

And he's heading towards her. Chloe pushes him and Warren steps in. Everything is happening in the opposite of slow motion. Everything is too fast. Everything is spinning.

She can hear every crack of broken ribs under Warren's knuckles. She can hear every painful moan. The blood. The blood on Warren's hands, mixed with his own and Nathan's.

Chloe looks like she's enjoying it. But Max isn't.

She thought that's all she wanted. To just let someone beat him up and watch him in pain, in a state where he is completely vulnerable.

No. It feels _horrible_.

''N-Nathan," her voice cracks, so she covers her mouth.

She is left alone with him.

''Everybody hates me . . . _everybody_ . . . "

''No," she kneels next to him, her eyes filling with tears. His t-shirt is drenched in blood and it makes her nauseous.

He did deserve a karma to come and get him, but _this . . . ?_ This is taking it too far.

''Jesus, I'm _so_ sorry," she whispers, looking at his bloody, bruised face and –probably– broken nose.

He's shaking horribly and the pain must be horrific.

At this state, she isn't even sure if he feels anything.

She's not sure what to do. She can't leave him there.

''Nathan?'' She says when he suddenly stops breathing. She watches his chest, but it doesn't move. ''Nathan?!'' She begins to shake him, but it's a terrible thing to do to someone who has broken bones and she knows it, but she's too terrified to do anything else.

She remembers the other times when she allowed him to be in this state; miserable and hurt. The threats, the anger, the hatred. She even wished he would _die_.

 _Jesus, what is happening to you, Max? You're worse than Nathan, and you know it. You can see it yourself. What is happening to you? And why? Is this hatred consuming you?_

''I will fix it. I will fix it, Nathan. Just hold on in there," her voice is shaky as with trembling hands she reaches for her bag, empting it onto the floor.

''Where is it . . . _come on_ ," she whispers to herself, nervously going through her pictures, and when she finally finds it, she immediately picks it up and focuses on it.

''I'll fix everything; I won't let it happen," she promises and inhales as the voices are speaking to her.

* * *

''Nathan Prescott gets beaten up.''

''Nathan Prescott has _serious_ issues.''

''Nathan Prescott is fucked up.''

''Nathan Prescott deserves to _die_.''

''Nathan Prescott is expelled.''

''Nathan Prescott drugged Kate.''

''Nathan Prescott is an _asshole_.''

''Go to the police, Nathan Prescott is _guilty_.''

''Nathan Prescott is a _psycho_.''

''Nathan Prescott drugged Chloe.''

''Nathan Prescott is _creepy_.''

''Nathan Prescott needs to be put in prison.''

''Nathan Prescott had a gun.''

* * *

 _Did it . . . did it work?_

She's in Mr. Jefferson's class, everything looks the same as it did the last time.

As the bell rings, she runs and waits in the hall. Soon enough, she spots Nathan, and not exactly having a plan, she jogs up to him and grabs him by his shoulder.

''Hi, Nathan," she greets him, her whole body shaking with adrenaline. Seeing his face without the bruises is a relief.

''The fuck _you_ want, weirdo?'' He asks, nervously looking around, probably watching out for Chloe.

''Some blue-haired girl asked you to come to the boy's bathroom instead," she says, surprisingly loud enough for him to hear. ''And _I_ also need to talk to you," the brunette adds and he suspiciously scans her face, the girl's hand still pulling the sleeve of his red jacket.

However, she doesn't release him.

''I don't have time," he simply shrugs her off and softly releases himself, and she feels her heart beat faster. She is surprised seeing him not being aggressive towards her _yet_.

''How about later, then?'' She proposes, clenching her fist. At first she thought she will just become invisible to him by avoiding him and not getting in his way, but seeing him in pain, crawled in a fetus position made her want to be nice to him for _once._

''Yeah, whatever, _don't_ follow me.'' And he walks off to the boys' bathroom. Literally, a few second later, Chloe appears in the hall and Max walks over to her.

''Chloe, we _need_ to get out of here," she whispers, taking her hand, slightly pushing her towards the exit and the punk girl stares at her deadly.

''Who the fu–'' But then her eyes widen, unable to believe what they're seeing. ''Max?!''

''I'll explain later. _Just_ go.''

* * *

It feels weird cheating in life. It's even more weirder doing nearly everything the same all over again.  
This time, however, Max decided to befriend Nathan Prescott and Victoria Chase, instead of becoming their enemies.  
 _Fucking ha ha._

And, she _actually_ has the second chance to save Kate's life. This time, it _must_ work. _It must._ Otherwise, her heart won't survive seeing her jump _again_.

She is surprised seeing no one else but Nathan himself as she opens the door.

''Hi," she greets him unsurely, avoiding direct eye contact.

She still think he's a complete asshole and it will take him a lot of work to actually change her mind, _if_ it's even possible.

He never choked her in this timeline. Never pointed a gun at Chloe. _So maybe . . . just maybe we're actually getting somewhere now?_

''Don't _'hi'_ me," the boy scowls in response, getting in the room without her permission. _Uh-uh, so it begins_. ''Close the door," he points his slender finger behind her as he settles himself on the desk; she does so and turns to face him, awkwardly linking her hands together.

She notices him admiring her photo memorial wall for a longer while before finally addressing her. ''Now," he turns to face her. ''You fucked me over."

''I, uh did?'' She blinks quickly, trying to look like she has no idea what he's talking about, but she will never be as good a liar as Victoria.

''I'm not an idiot, Max," his tone of voice suggests lack of patience and clear irritation.

She bites her lip, unsure how to act. She needs to be careful with her words. "I just want you to know that I'm on your side.''

However, she is still afraid of him, and even if she has no bruises on her cheek or neck, she still remembers the pain he has caused her and Kate, Chloe and Warren.

He's not convinced. ''The fuck you mean, exactly?"

She can't explain; he'll have an attack or something like the last time. She needs to be gentle with it.

''Not now.''

''You're full of mysteries, Caulfield, huh?" He says mockingly and she rolls her eyes. _You don't even know how right you are._

* * *

She would never think they'd make a good team. She was the one to propose it, and he was the one to accept her offer.

And it's _actually_ working.

''A team?'' He lowers his eyebrows, unsure.

''Yeah. Like partners in crime," she explains, reaching her hand to him. ''We have to be honest to each other though. I mean like . . . _really honest_.''

He takes a moment to think, and as she's about to drop her arm, he shakes it, looking right into her determined eyes.

''I better not regret it, Caulfield.''

''You won't, I swear.''

His touch is still alien and unpleasant, but she allows it, knowing she'll have to get used to it if they intend on working together.

* * *

She finds it hard to think about Warren the way she did before. The kiss never happened. Instead, she had been hanging out with her worst enemy. How ironic.

 _But sacrifices have to be made_ , she says, _and if that's all it takes to get him to give me some answers, then I'm gonna take it._

A familiar voice rings next to her ear. "'You're so fucking weird.''

She shrugs it off, taking a sip of her coffee.

''And nosey. Nice combo, hippie," he shakes his head, she tries her best not to sigh or roll eyes at him. He is so rude, no matter what she do or says.

But she guesses it hasn't been that bad yet, _everything is cool,_ they decided to hang out to discuss the matter of their agreement.  
And, what's important, he hasn't choked her _yet_.

'' _Soooo_ , you wanted to talk, yeah?'' His leg is slightly bouncing, more from excitement than nervousness and it makes her eyebrow slightly rise. "I ain't got all day.''

 _Oh yeah, Nathan. I'm sure you've got plenty of girls to drug on your way._

''Obviously, we won't talk about it in a public place," she answers calmly, looking at the menu, considering what to eat. She perfectly knows the menu. She's stalling.

''Then why the fuck drag me here?'' He asks, getting impatient and angry, which makes her irritated. She hates his short temper, the impatience, the eagerness, everything about him is just _so frustrating._

''I was hungry.'' A serious answer comes out her mouth and it takes her a lot of effort to not look at his priceless expression. ''We have plenty of time, no need to rush.''

It is true. _Well_ , forget the tornado that's going to wipe Arcadia Bay from the planet on Friday. They have loads of time indeed _without_ including it.

''Hurry up then, fatty. You're just being annoying now.''

She wants to throw him out the window, but knows Joyce would have to pay to get the new one in, and not wanting to cause her trouble, she stops herself.

. . .

''You don't – _Ugh_ , Max, have you ever, like, held a gun before?'' He asks, annoyed with her incompetence as she tries to aim at the target with the weapon clenched clumsily in both hands.

Her memory takes her back to the day she almost shot Frank in the junkyard. "Yes," her answer's uneasy. "But I didn't get the chance to actually use it."

"You're useless, Caulfield.''

That's _exactly_ what she hates about him. All of those little rude remarks that make her feel like shit.

''Aim like this," he comes behind her and moves her shoulders by the elbows. ''That better now?''

''I guess," she mumbles, moving her finger on the trigger. He's too close for her to concentrate. She feels like he'll wrap his hands around her throat anytime now, and she doesn't like it at all. She prefers to have him in-front, where she can see him.

''What you're waiting for? Shoot.''

''Stand where I can see you," she demands; he laughs.

''You have the gun, dumbass. You could shoot me before I'd get to you.''

But it doesn't sound convincing at all, so after a few seconds of annoyance in her eyes; he gives up and moves.

With a sharp pull of the trigger, the bullet pierces the skin of the bottle, making it shatter into pieces. She proudly looks at her 'trainer' and he gives her a 'not-bad' shake of head.

 _I guess it's kind of fun,_ she smiles _._

 _. . ._

''Breathe," she says, stroking his back in hope it'll calm him down. ''Just . . . just inhale and exhale, like you usually do.'' But it doesn't help. His body is uncontrollably shaking, unsettling noises coming out of his throat. He's moving back–in–forth, hands on his ears, just like the last time.

The girl considers suggesting taking the medication, but as he said himself, he doesn't want it and she won't make him. So she reaches out for the headphones and puts them on his head, pressing 'play'.

It doesn't calm him. It doesn't calm him at all.

''Nathan. Nathan, I'm here, hey, look, look at me," her hand gently reaches for his shoulder. ''Listen to me, listen to my voice. . . " her voice nervous and unsure, full of doubt and the feeling of weakness, hopelessness.

He lifts his head up

''Yeah, that's it, look, it's just me and you, nothing else to worry about . . . " she continues, her words somehow making his breathing slightly calmer, but not enough to actually snap him out of this. ''It's nice, isn't it? Just the two of us.''

She doesn't know what she's saying anymore. She just wants him to stop. To make it stop.  
Her chest is so tight she has problems with inhaling. Her heart is so heavy she has problems with controlling herself. She can't believe that's what it looks like. That's what his episodes are like. And she was the one that caused it in the first place in the previous timeline, before she changed everything.

She will never be able to forgive herself for that.  
 _Jesus_ ; she blames him for being and asshole, but how really different is she herself?

''I'm so sorry Nathan," she whispers, choking on her own tears. It's happening again. It's even worse than seeing him with his ribs swollen up, face bloody and wounded. It's even worse, because that's what's he's going through every day and she can't even help him.

He reaches for her face, his hand so shaky she has to put her own hand on top of his to make it stay still. His touch is warm, nice, comforting. So different than the one from before.

 _"Why . . ._ y–you . . . cry–ing . . . You su–supp–osed to cheer me u–up, Ma-Max. You suck," he stutters, still shaking and she laughs, wiping away her tears and sending him a weak smile.

* * *

''So; that's it then," he says slowly, gazing into the horizon.  
She does the same, cold wind messing up her hair; but she doesn't care. She couldn't care less at this moment about anything.

Everything is destroyed. Especially her heart. She knows it will never be the same. It couldn't be. Not after what happened.

He reaches out to her with a hand, and she slowly looks at it. ''I hope we'll still be friends.''

''I hope not," her answer's short as she's on the verge of tears. ''Not after what happened. I couldn't . . . '' Her gaze meets the ground; feeling her mouth going dry, she licks her lips. ''Don't get me the wrong way–''

His answer is surprisingly calm. ''I get it, Max. _I get it_.''

''Then you'll understand me.''

He doesn't say anything further. The dead silence around them makes it clear it's time for them to go into separate ways.

''I will never forget you, Nathan Prescott," she says quietly, hugging her arm tightly.

''I am no longer a Prescott.''

She looks up at him. She _did_ change him. Without her, he'd be _nothing_. They'd be enemies, and she'd be probably dead along with him.

And now, he is finally free of his family, of the dirty name he had to carry since he was born.

She wants to feel his comforting closeness, but she's too weak and exhausted to reach for him.  
He senses it, and comes closer, her body drowning into his, tightly embracing him.

This is the boy she used to hate. This is the boy she felt sorry for. This is the boy she decided to help.

"Come on," he moves away, opening the car doors for her.

She gets in, looking blankly out the window.

Their journey doesn't take them far as they need to tank up. With an annoyed look, Nathan exits, heading towards the station's shop.

Max follows him with her eyes until he disappears from her sight behind the double doors.

She turns around in her seat.

Underneath the white cloth, there it is - a sparkling gun, fully loaded, resting on the backseat.

 _This is your chance. Your chance to reunite with Chloe._

She takes it.


	2. The Impact

He scans the shelves with exhausted eyes. With great disinterest, grabs magazines at random and shoves them into his pocket.

 _Max surely must be hungry_ , he thinks. But all of the food here is pure junk. With no other possible choice, he takes a great amount of snacks that he tucks underneath his arm, and finally moves towards the check-out.

He notices one of those disposable cameras that could be thrown away after use, and takes all of them. _Since Max is almost out of film, this could really cheer her up._

Card declined.

 _Of course_ , he snickers.

"OK, that'll be cash," he reaches for his wallet that costed alone 350$ and places the bill onto the counter with distaste. That was all of the money he had left since his daddy cut him off.

He exits in a hurry. He wants to get away from this place as soon as possible. The thought of not being alone anymore gives him hope, and the thought of Max makes him smile.

He opens the back doors first, placing the bags onto the seats. "I bought you something," he says with unease, almost shyness and gets inside the driver's seat.

His eyes immediately travel to the girl, smile plastered to the face. She is resting her head against the window, not directly facing him.

"Hey, you asleep?" He asks softly, touching her hand. It's warm. He touches her face, and notices something unsettling.

There's blood on the window.

Slowly, he moves her chin, forcing her gently to face him.

Her eyes are closed, and she has a nosebleed.

"Max?" He asks nervously.

No response whatsoever comes from her side.

He exits the car in a hurry and walks around to open the passenger's seat; there is much more blood on the window visible to him now.

"Max!" He shakes her, but stops mid-through. He freezes.

He sees a gun shot wound on the side of her head.

No.

The gun is still in her hand.

All he can do is stare.

"Max," he shakes her. "Max, wake up."

Her motionless body falls onto him.

"Wake up, wake up . . . wake up, Max, wake up," he says through the tightened throat, feeling the wetness of tears and blood on his face as he brings her even closer to himself.

"Why . . . wh- why," he cries into her hair that is drenched with fresh blood. "Max, why?"

How he wishes he could have her ability to rewind right now.

"Everything was- was go-ing to . . . be o-kay."

He looks at her pale face covered with the scarlet hue, mouth slightly opened as if to call for his help.

"Why did- y-you do this to me, M-a-ax?"

He hopefully checks her pulse.

"Y-you left, ho-w co-could you?!"

His breathing is becoming unstable, he feels as if suffocating; drowning. Whole body shaking; sweat dripping down his back, hair on the neck standing upright.

He releases her slowly. "Everything is going to be okay, Max," he says calmly, placing her onto the pavement.

He takes the gun from her hand before getting up.

A man emerges from the shop hurriedly, shouting 'No!'

But it's too late, Nathan pulls the trigger.

 _Sweet relief._

. . .

. . .

. . .

He doesn't feel different.

He opens his eyes. He's still alive.

He looks at the gun with anger.

It's . . .

It's empty.

"Impossible, it was full," he says to himself frantically, scanning the weapon as if it was the greatest betrayal of his life.

The man finally catches up to him, shouting; screaming; dialling the ambulance.

"It was full," Nathan repeats, his eyes reflecting insanity.

He very, very slowly looks at Max.

"You selfish bitch," he says. "You took the ammo, didn't you?!" He drops down onto his knees and yanks the girl towards himself, shaking her. "Admit it!"

The man is terrified while looking at the mad boy. He feels as if he has no other choice, so he pushes him away from the female's dead body.

"You bitch! You bitch! You bi-"

The man knocks him out.


End file.
